Of Harmony and Strife
by E.A. Week
Summary: If it wasn’t bad enough trying to teach his nephew the finer points of godhood, Ares gets stuck babysitting his teenage daughter for the weekend.


Title: **Of Harmony and Strife**

Author: E.A. Week

E-mail: eaweek@hotmail.com

Summary:  If it wasn't bad enough trying to teach his nephew the finer points of godhood, Ares gets stuck babysitting his teenage daughter for the weekend.

Category: Humor, some romance (Xena/ Ares).

Distribution: Feel free to link this story to any _Xena/ Hercules or fanfic site, or distribute on a mailing list, but **please** drop me at least a brief e-mail and let me know you've done this._

Feedback: Letters of comment are always welcome! Loved it? Hated it? Let me know why!

Disclaimer: All the _Hercules and __Xena characters belong to Rob Tapert, Sam Raimi, and Renaissance Pics.  I'm just borrowing them, honest! : )_

Datclaimer: This story is rated PG-13 for mild language and sexual innuendo.

Possible spoilers: This story takes place at some vague point during _Xena season three—any time after "The Furies."_

The day had been progressing splendidly for Ares, god of war.  He'd spent the morning causing violence and bloodshed in the town of Nikopolis.  Two groups of villagers had endeavored to create a mile-long bazaar, a strip of continuous market stalls.  Thanks to Ares, the villagers had gone to war over the limited number of hitching posts at the place.  He chuckled gleefully.  With some careful planning, he could imagine such conflicts being the cause of endless bickering for the rest of human history.

Now he lay naked on his belly while Astyoche, his favorite among the temple harlots, rubbed his back with fragrant oils.  He sighed.  Existence could not be more satisfactory.  (Unless, of course, Xena was performing the massage, but for the moment Astyoche would do just perfectly).

He blinked when a shimmer of golden sparkles appeared in the air before him.  To his vast pleasure, Aphrodite materialized from the glittering cloud.  With a grunt, Ares waved away Astyoche and sat up on the wooden table, wrapping a towel around his waist to cover his shame (not that he had anything to be ashamed of) and standing to greet his sister.

"Aphrodite," he purred, adopting Lascivious Expression #3.  "Getting a little dull in the forge these days?"  His gaze dropped to the splendid curves of her cleavage.  

"As if."  Aphrodite rolled her eyes sarcastically.  "That's not what I came here for, _brother_."

Ares didn't seem to hear; he was too occupied trying to zero in for epic liplock.  Aphrodite discouraged him with a quick stomp on the foot.

"Hey," he yelped, and backed off a bit.  Then he regained his god-like composure.  "Too bad," he said, toying with the ends of her hair.  "I remember when you visited... frequently."

Another roll of the eyes.  "Yeah, well, everyone's entitled to sow her wild oats," she said.  "I didn't come here for old time's sake.  I need a favor from you."

"Ooooh," he said, tongue creeping into the corner of his mouth.  "A _favor."  He stepped around behind Aphrodite and kissed the top of her flaxen curls, but when he tried to goose her, she smacked his hand._

"Not _that_ kind of favor, dude," she said.  "Like, you have such a one-track mind.  Don't your temple cuties keep you occupied?"

"Well," said Ares, shifting his expression to Irresistible-Seductive #17, "they're all right; they're just not _you_."

"You're miffed because _Xena_ won't let you have any," Aphrodite taunted him.  "Go dig what's-her-face out of the lava pit; she certainly liked you.  Or visit the Furies.  I'm sure you could get Alecto to lap dance."

Ares growled and folded his arms on his magnificent chest.  "All right, all right," he sighed, "what d'you want from me?"

"Hephaestus is taking me to Cancún for our second honeymoon.  I need to you to look after Harmonia for the weekend."

"Harmonia?" said Ares blankly.  "Is that your parakeet or something?"

"Exqueeze me?" Aphrodite yelled.  "She's our daughter!"

"Daughter?"  Ares looked genuinely befuddled.  "I thought Cupid was a boy."

Aphrodite rolled her eyes yet again and glared up at Ares.  "Like, you are so thick sometimes!" she said.  "She was born _after_ Cupid."

"Aphrodite," said Ares with an expression that for him approximated tenderness.  "Why didn't you tell me?"

The goddess of love resisted the urge to pound her former boyfriend over the head.  "I tried!  If you hadn't been so busy chasing Xena's miniskirt and trying to waste Hercules, you might have noticed!"

"Wait, wait," said Ares, a glimmer of comprehension crossing his features.  "That little pink thing... that was our daughter?"

"Light dawns on bed rock."  Aphrodite shook her head.  

"How... old is she?" asked Ares.

"Sixteen.  She's very sweet, and I'm sure she won't be a bother to you at all."

"Sweet?" said Ares with a shudder.  "Now, if she was violent, dishonest, and a troublemaker... then, she might have some potential.  But _sweet_?  I don't know if I can deal with that."

"Oh, get over yourself," Aphrodite grumbled.  "I'm sure you'll manage."  Her eyes narrowed.  "And she better be just as uncorrupted when I get back."  She stepped closer to Ares, running her slender fingertips across his well-developed pectoral muscles.  "I'm the goddess of love _and_ desire, dude," she reminded him, her fingers moving downward, "so if you want your vital parts to stay functional, you'll take _really_ good care of her."  Aphrodite dropped one lacquered nail to tap the towel folded over his pelvis.  "And since I _will_ owe you one... maybe... _maybe_, I'll put a little whammy on Xena for you."

Ares looked like a child who had just been promised a special toy.  "You will?" he asked, eyes glowing.

"For sure," Aphrodite responded.  "Wipe the drool off your chin, already.  But that's _if_ Harmonia comes back to me in one piece."  Aphrodite stood on her tiptoes to give Ares a very fast kiss on the mouth.  "Enjoy the weekend, Daddy!" she said, and vanished.

Hastily, Ares snapped his fingers.  His own clothes appeared on his body instantly.  He waved his hand and the massage table disappeared.  

A moment later, in a little shower of pink sparkles, a trunk emerged.  Ares regarded the thing with trepidation, expecting his daughter to leap out of it like a magician.  One after another, seven more identical trunks appeared in a row with the first, all made of fine-tooled white leather, each with a heart embossed in gold on the lid.  Ares grimaced with distaste.

Shortly after the last box arrived, another shower of pink sparkles appeared.  From this shimmering cloud materialized Harmonia herself.

Ares gawked.  The girl stood shorter than he, but still taller than her mother.  Like Aphrodite, Harmonia sported a mane of blonde hair, seemingly enough for three people, the thick mass of it plaited up elaborately on her head.  She had porcelain-pretty features, wide blue-gray eyes, and a sveltely curved body, set off to perfection with a neat short-skirted toga.  Ares winced at the lavender color of the garment, but otherwise his chest swelled with smug pride.  _Didn't do too badly, he congratulated himself._

The girl turned around, taking in the temple with an approving expression.

"Nice digs!" she said.  "Bitchin'!"  Then she spotted Ares and with a happy little squeak, bounced over to him.  Before Ares could protest or even move, she'd thrown her arms around him in a hug that nearly knocked him to the floor.  "Daddy!"

He could tell it was going to be a _long_ weekend.

*****

"Arrrgh!"

"What's wrong?  Did my pin stick you?  I'm sorry.  Here, I'll kiss and make it better."  Harmonia gave him a smooch.  "Gosh, you're tall."  She gazed up at him with her big, but rather vacant eyes.  "I better keep taking my vitamins!  I'd love to be as tall as you are some day.  Wow, you're really cute.  I can see why Mom liked you so much.  On the whole, though, I'm glad I look more like her.  No offense."  She smiled sweetly and prattled on.  "You know, Daddy, you should wear this tunic open a bit more."  Harmonia grabbed the folds of black leather and pulled them apart.  "You have such nice pecs, you should show them off.  Gee, you're really buff.  Do you lift?  I can see that Cupid takes after you."  

Ares just stood there, utterly flabbergasted while this creature continued her monologue.

"You shouldn't scowl so much; you're getting lines right in here."  She rubbed her fingertips between his eyebrows, then scrubbed his cheek with her hand.  "The beard is groovy, but you could really use a facial.  I have some seaweed with me that works wonders for your skin."  She played with his amulet.  "Dig the necklace!" she said.  "Can I have one of those?  Oooh, I love your _earring_!  That is the coolest little skull and dagger I have _ever_ seen.  But Daddy, the asymmetrical look is _so_ five years ago.  You really need another one."  Harmonia snapped her fingers.  

Ares yelped and grabbed his right ear.

"That's okay, it only hurts for a second."  She kissed the tip of his nose.  "Beauty is painful," she said.  "Now, isn't that better?"  Ares fingered his right earlobe, where a replica of his earring now dangled.  "You match!  I'm glad I didn't inherit your ears.  Yours are so pointy.  And you and Mom _both_ have curls; how'd _I_ end up with straight hair?  Hey, is that your _sword_?"  Before Ares could stop her, she'd pulled the weapon from its scabbard and grasped it in both hands.  Power hummed and vibrated in the air.

"Cool!" she exclaimed, as a surge of electricity crackled out of the sword, vaporizing a potted palm in the corner.

Ares grabbed away the massive weapon before she could do any more damage to the temple—or to _him_.  For a moment, he debated sending Harmonia packing back to Mount Olympus, trunks and all, but he hesitated.  A vision passed through his mind: that of Xena crawling to him, overwhelmed with a lust that only _he_ could satisfy.  Putting up with this silly child for a couple of days would be well worth making that vision a reality.

"Harmonia," he managed.

"Ooooh," she said with a giggle, twitching her shoulders.  "I like how you say that.  So _menacing_."  She made her voice low and breathy, imitating his.  "_'Harmonia_.'"

Ares tried to think of something else to say.  "What's in all these trunks?"

"My clothes!" she said with another giggle, as if the question were too obvious to ask.  "What did you _think_ was in them?"

"You're only going to be here two days," he said, astonished.

"I know," she responded, prancing over to the boxes with a little skip, "but I wanted to be prepared for anything."  She looked around at the temple.  "This place is just mega," she said.  "I'd love to decorate Mom's place on Olympus like this, but I think it's too retro for her tastes.  I have a flair for visuals.  Mom says I can be the goddess of interior design when I'm old enough."  Harmonia ceased her prattle.  Ares realized she was staring at Astyoche, who had re-appeared in the doorway with a stack of fresh towels, not certain if the interrupted massage session would be resumed.

"Who are you?" asked Harmonia.

"I'm Astyoche.  I'm one of his whor—"

"Housekeepers," Ares interrupted hastily.  "She's my housekeeper."  He made a gesture, shooing away Astyoche.  The girl threw him a petulant expression, but retreated.  Ares made a mental note to make it up to her later.  How was he going to deal with Harmonia?  For all his vast experience manipulating warlords and armies, not to mention dealing with his perpetually bickering family, Ares had utterly no defenses against his daughter.  She was pretty, she was innocent, she was as featherbrained a being as he'd ever encountered.  He couldn't use her, he couldn't even corrupt her—she was just too stupid.  At best, he could keep her occupied for the next forty-eight hours. But how?

The answer appeared unexpectedly in a silver glimmer.

"Hey, Unc," a familiar, annoying voice called from across the chamber.  "I thought we were going—"  Strife stopped short, staring at Harmonia with a flummoxed expression.  "W-w-w," he stuttered.  "Who are you?"

"I'm Harmonia," she giggled.  "Who are you?"

"I'm, uh, I'm uh, Strife," he gasped weakly, staring at Harmonia's legs.

"Strife," said Ares.  "Meet your cousin."

"I'm his daughter," Harmonia twinkled.

"His daughter?" Strife laughed in disbelief.  "No!  Uncle?  _You_?"

"Yes, believe it or not," said Ares through his teeth.  "Children are one consequence of having a sex life."  He smiled patronizingly at Strife.  "Not that I'd expect you to know anything about that."

Harmonia's giggle filled the room.  "Oh Daddy, that was way harsh." She held out a slender hand.  "I'm happy to meet you, Strife."

"Uh, uh, yeah," said Strife, staring at her hand.  What did he expect her to do with it, admire her rings?

"Hey, dig those cool gloves!" said Harmonia, taking a better look at her cousin's garb.  "And all those safety pins!  Wild!  Where did you _ever_ find so many?"

"Um, I, uh, I got them at Dinar A Dozen in Athens," said Strife.  "Like, accessories?  They have some gnarly stuff.  Ever been there?"

"No!  And all your earrings!  And that day-glo makeup!  You are just too cool!  You know, if I were you, I'd wear black lipstick.  And you should shave your eyebrows right off, they're just in your way.  And you could—"

"Ah."  Ares interrupted his daughter's ceaseless chatter.  "Strife—why don't you show Harmonia to the guest rooms, then take her around the temple for a little tour?  I'm sure she'd like to see the waterfall out back.  Maybe you two could..." Ares fished for words "...keep each other company for the weekend.  I'm sure you have so much in common."  He managed an ingratiating smile.

"Wh—wh—well—sure— I mean, if—"

"Oh, I'd love that!" Harmonia squealed.  "Daddy, you are a genius!"  And she went skipping off towards the stairs.

Strife started to follow, but Ares grabbed his nephew by the collar of his tunic, lifting the younger god so that his feet dangled several inches off the floor.

"Remember, she's _my_ daughter," said Ares in a low voice.  "You mind your manners, Strife, or I'll have you singing soprano for the rest of eternity.  Got it?"

"Uh-huh," Strife gasped.  Ares dropped his nephew back to the floor.  Strife took off in pursuit of his cousin.  When the two teenagers had vanished, Ares waved his hand, transporting the eight trunks to the guest rooms.  He then snapped his fingers for the massage table and called,

"Astyoche!"

The buxom young woman appeared.

"Yes, Lord?"

Ares shrugged, and his clothes vanished.  He flopped onto the wooden table with a sigh.  "Now, where were we?"

*****

"Oh, these are pretty!" said Harmonia, skipping around the guest rooms, a lovestruck Strife in tow.  "But it needs more pillows."  She snapped her fingers and a dozen small cushions of various colors appeared.  "And more pink."  At another fingersnap, the guest rooms were suddenly decked out in Laura Ashley florals.

Harmonia danced over to Strife and cozied up to him.  "Show me around?" she cooed.

"Uh, yeah, like, sure," he wheezed.

As they walked down the passageway, Harmonia continued her chitchat.  Unlike Ares, Strife found everything she said wonderful, if a bit confusing.

"Your mother is Auntie _Eris_," she remarked, wrinkling her little nose.  "One night, she came to our place and she and Mom got into the most _horrid_ knock-down drag-out you _ever_ saw.  I was _so_ scared, I just ran and hid.  You know, _Hephaestus_ had to separate them?  Boy, your mom is _mean_."

"You have no idea," said Strife with a shudder.

"So, do you hang with Daddy a lot?" inquired Harmonia.

"Uh, yeah, uh, my mother asked if he'd give me some pointers," said Strife, gesticulating with his arms.  "You know, show me the ropes."

"Cool.  Oh, what's in here?" asked Harmonia, looking through an archway.  "Ooooh, this must be Daddy's room," she said, staring around at the decor.  "Wow, he sure likes black!"

"Uh, like, he doesn't let anyone come in here," said Strife uneasily.

"Oh, I'm sure he wouldn't mind _me_ taking a look around," said Harmonia, flouncing into the room.  Strife followed, casting looks of trepidation back at the doorway, ready to bolt at a moment's notice.  Harmonia chattered on, oblivious.

"Oooh, who's that?" she asked, pointing to a table where a three-foot tall bronze sculpture of an armored woman stood, a sword in one hand and a circular object in the other, a ferocious expression on her face.  "Is she mean-looking, or what?"

"Oh, uh, that's like Xena," said Strife.  "She's like this warrior that Uncle has a thing for.  A major thing," he amended.  "Know what I mean?"

"He must, if he's had her cast in bronze," Harmonia giggled.  "What's that thing in her hand?"

"That?  That's her chakram.  It's this totally rad weapon that Uncle had made especially for her.  It like bounces off stuff and comes right back to her.  It's like under mind control."  Strife pointed index fingers into his temples and rolled his eyes around in their sockets.  "It does whatever she wants it to do."

"Bitchin'!" said Harmonia.  She made an adorable face.  "Aw.  Daddy has a crush.  And does she like him?"

"Uh, no, actually, she hates his guts."  Strife made a face.  "She used to like him, but then she met Hercules and got on this thing about helping mankind."  Strife rolled his eyes again, this time in disdain.  "You know what I'm saying?  Like Ms. Do-Gooder of the Known World?"

"Well, can't she help mankind and still go out with Daddy?" Harmonia wanted to know.  "Like, are the two things mutually incompatible or something?"

"I guess that's what _she_ thinks," concluded Strife.  "She won't serve him anymore.  He offered her this completely awesome army— all the greatest warriors in like, history-- and she said no!  He offered her money and fame, and she said no.  So he like, pretended to be her father and tried to get her to lead another great army, but she still said no!  Then he got really mad and flipped her into the body of her worst enemy, this really scary psycho blonde chick.  But that still didn't teach her anything, and I guess Uncle didn't like Xena as a blonde, so he flipped her back into her own body."

"Hey!" Harmonia squealed, patting her coiffure.  "What's wrong with being blonde?" she demanded.  "And what is this woman's problem, anyway?  Daddy is practically throwing himself at her feet, and she still doesn't want him?  Poor Daddy, no wonder he has lines on his face!  He must be so broken-hearted!"

"Yeah, well, that's why he has this—" Strife waved at the bronze statue, "to remind himself what she used to be like.  Before she got all goody-goody."

"Well, _I_ think they should try to work it out," said Harmonia.  "She should get her mean old body in here and they could rub each other's backs and have some nice hot cocoa, and patch everything up."  She clasped her hands with pleasure.  "Then they could get married and I could be their decorator!  I'd love to do the wedding.  I could make the cutest little outfit for Daddy!  And I could be their flower girl!  And they'd have a fab spread on Olympus, designed by _me_!  It would be my first real assignment, my big break!  I'd—"

"Uh, like, Harmonia," said Strife urgently.  "Let's like, go look at something else, dig?"  The longer they spent in his uncle's rooms, the more nervous he got.

"Oh, sure!"  Harmonia pranced out of the room, Strife behind her.  "Maybe I could get Cupid to shoot this Xena woman with an arrow.  She'd sure like Daddy in a hurry then!  You know, it's just amazes me how much Daddy looks like Cupid.  Or I guess, how much Cupid looks like Daddy.  They're both so tall and buff, with those gorgeous dark eyes.  Cupid is the _coolest_ guy to have as an older brother, but just between us, I think Psyche is kind of a drip.  But I _love_ playing with their little baby.  Have you met Bliss?  He's just _so_ sweet!  But I'll tell you, Strife, Mom went like, totally postal when she became a grandmother.  She just could not _deal_.  I think Daddy seems to be taking it a little better.  You know what's interesting, though, is that Cupid and I both have the same parents, but he got wings, and I didn't!  Not that I mind, 'cuz like, it would be so hard to fit clothes over wings.  It's okay for Cupid and Bliss, 'cuz they can go shirtless, but with me, that would be a problem—"

"It would?" Strife asked blankly as they took the steps to the observatory.

"Oh, _you_!" said Harmonia coquettishly, giving him a playful slap on the arm.  "Anyhow, I asked Mom about it, and she said that it's a throwback to Rhea, who's like the mother of _Zeus_ or something!  Rhea was like this Titan, and she had _wings_!  And, like, Daddy and Mom are half-siblings, so they both have Zeus as their Dad, but different mothers.  Anyhow, Mom said that Cupid must've gotten a double dose of recessive genes or something, and that's why he has wings and I don't.  And—"

Strife thought, my head hurts.

*****

"... you know what I'd _really_ like to do is give Daddy a makeover.  His skin is just _screaming_ for a good exfoliant.  And if I were him, I would _not_ try to flatten out his hair on top.  He should just let it go all wild and curly.  I think that would be so cute.  I—what's in here?"

"I don't know.  I don't usually hang in here, know what I mean?"  So far, Strife had shown Harmonia the upper levels of the temple, including the observatory.  Then he'd taken her out to the lush, impressive garden behind the temple and shown her the sparkling waterfall.  They had wandered back inside via a corridor Strife had never explored.  Now they found themselves in a small room full of complicated-looking glass objects.

"Wild!  Like, mad scientist or something."  Harmonia stared around at everything.  A pleasant scent hung in the air.  "Hmm, that smells good enough to eat," she remarked.  Several large cloth sacks lay on the floor under a table.  One sack stood open.  The two young gods saw that it contained a profusion of small, roundish brown objects.

Harmonia picked up one of the brown things and sniffed it carefully.  She tried to bite it, but spit it back out.  "Eew, grody to the max," she said.  "It smells way better than it tastes.  I think these are like, seeds or something."

Strife had found a mortar and pestle on another table.  "I think he puts them in this," he said.  A fine brown powder coated the inside of the dish.  Harmonia took a handful of the seed-like objects and put them into the mortar.  Strife carefully ground them into a powder.

"So what's the deal?" asked Harmonia, taking an experimental taste.  "It's just as gross now as it was before."

"Maybe he puts it in there?" Strife suggested, pointing to an odd-looking glass contraption.

"That looks like a little torch, right underneath it," said Harmonia.  "And here's a pitcher of water..."  Suddenly she exclaimed, "Hey!  I'll bet he makes some kind of drink out of this stuff."

"Uh, maybe we shouldn't like, mess with this," said Strife.  Fooling with anything that belonged to Ares did not strike him as terribly wise.

"Bitchin'!  I'll bet the water goes in here--"  Harmonia poured water into an opening—"and the brown stuff goes in here—" she dumped the powder into a small receptacle—"then you light the torch like this—" at a snap of her fingers, a merry blue flame appeared.  "Now, we just wait for the water to heat up.  I'll bet the stuff comes out here—" she pointed to another spout—"when it's finished."  Singing to herself, she found a couple of ceramic mugs and stuck one under the spout.

Evidently, Harmonia had done something wrong, or perhaps the flame was too hot, because one of the glass components of the contraption exploded suddenly with a small bang.  Strife squawked.  Harmonia shrieked, then clamped her hand to her mouth, eyes darting guiltily from one side to another.  Water poured all over the table and clouds of steam puffed up into the air.

"Oh, no!" she squealed, waving her hand to put out the flame.  "What do we do now?"

"Uh, like, uh, I don't know," Strife gasped.  "Unc's gonna kill me."

"No, he won't," Harmonia stated, her breezy assurance restored.  "I'm sure he can fix this, or just get another one.  C'mon, let's go look around the rest of the temple.  Maybe... maybe he'll think some animals got in here, or something."

Strife was only too happy to leave the scene of the accident.  "Wanna go look around the dungeon?" he suggested.

"Eeew, why would we want to go look around some ichy old dungeon?" Harmonia wanted to know.

Strife scratched his head, then thought of his justification for doing just about anything.  "Well—well—because it'd be cool?"

"All right!" she giggled.

They descended the stairs down towards the temple's lowest levels.  As they passed through a dimly lit corridor, Harmonia paused before a set of massive double doors.  "What's in here?" she asked.

"I, uh, I don't know."  Strife had learned long ago that disinterest was the better part of survival where his uncle's secrets were concerned.  He'd already unearthed too many of them today for his comfort.

"Well, let's look."  Harmonia lifted the heavy wooden bar that kept the doors bolted shut.  She drew the right door open, then the left.  Before them lay only Stygian blackness.  Then they heard a soft snort.

Harmonia snapped her fingers and a torch within the small chamber lit up, illuminating the back of a magnificent chariot.

"Wow!" Harmonia whispered.  "Daddy's cruisemobile!"

"Uh, Harmonia, like, I don't think this is a good idea," Strife protested.

"Chicken!" she taunted, stepping over the threshold.  Strife gulped and followed her.

"This is so gorgeous!" she said.  "Daddy's chariot is way more cool than Mom's.  Cupid's been teaching me how to drive it—I have my learner's permit."  Harmonia hopped up into the vehicle.

"Like, I think maybe you should get out of there," said Strife.  "Unc's really gonna hang us out to dry."

"You are so scaredy-cat of him!" Harmonia giggled.  "Can't you see that he's just a big teddy bear?"  She ogled the pair of enormous black stallions harnessed to the chariot.  "Oh, cool—Phobos and Deimos!"

Harmonia gestured for Strife to get into the chariot with her.

"Wh-what are you going to do?" he wheezed.

"Daddy won't mind if we take a little spin," she said with a giggle.

"No!  I mean, yes he will!"

"He won't even know we're gone.  We can pop into Dinar A Dozen and be back in time for supper.  Daddy will never know we were gone."  Harmonia looked up at her cousin with the pleading, seductive look that few had ever been able to resist.  "_Please_?" she wheedled.  "I'd really rather not go by myself."

"Uh, well, I guess it'd be okay," said Strife, trying to adopt Harmonia's attitude of carefree abandon.  "Do you know how to operate this thing?"

"I think it's like this?"  Harmonia waved her hand.  Another pair of doors, leading to the outside, swung open.  The two could see the road leading away from the temple.  

"How do you get them to move?" Strife asked.

Harmonia picked up the reins.  "Yah!" she yelled.

The horses broke into a trot with an unexpected abruptness.  The two teenagers grabbed the sides of the chariot for dear life.

"Whee!" Harmonia laughed with delight as the chariot roared out of the temple, gaining speed with every second.

"Aaaaah!" Strife screamed.

In a blaze of light, the chariot lifted up into the air.  The temple and the forest receded beneath it.

"Mega!" Harmonia squealed.  She looked down, where Strife huddled cowering on the floor of the vehicle.  "Like, what is your _problem_?"

*****

Much to Strife's disbelief, Harmonia proved herself a capable horsewoman, deftly piloting the chariot to the vicinity of Athens.  He experienced a moment of panic when she brought the chariot down to the ground, landing in a field.  But when he opened his eyes, he saw that the horses, the chariot, Harmonia, and himself were all still in one piece.  The two gods hopped out of the chariot (Strife had never been so happy to have his feet back on terra firma) and Harmonia led the horses by their reins into a thicket of trees.

"See, I _told_ you we'd be fine," said Harmonia, hands on her hips.  "What'd you think, that I couldn't drive or something?"

"No, no—never, of course not," Strife gasped.

"C'mon," said Harmonia, checking the position of the sun.  "We have a few hours, at least."  She waved her hand.  Suddenly her lavender toga vanished, replaced by a chic, dark blue gown with a snug bodice.  She had dainty sandals on her feet and a spiffy draw-string bag over one shoulder.

"I have to look the part," she said in response to Strife's unasked question.

"Yeah, like, whatever you say," he answered, trying not to stare too obviously at her cleavage.  Harmonia slid an arm through his and they set out on the road that led into Athens.

*****

Not long after the two godlings set off on their shopping expedition, a solitary traveler made his way down the same road, chuckling quietly to himself.  Five years had passed since his last visit to the Athens marketplace.  Thanks to a minor disguise, he had gone unrecognized while he conducted his "business."  This particular transaction had required no elaborate deceptions, no hanging from overhead rafters.  Just a small distraction, a simple sleight of hand, and a stunning emerald bracelet now rested comfortably inside the tunic worn by the King of Thieves.

When he judged himself far enough outside the city to abandon his disguise, Autolycus ducked into the woods to change clothes.  Once amongst the trees, he discovered to his astonishment, the most impressive-looking equipage he had ever seen hidden there.  Who, he wondered, would be so idiotic to leave their horses and conveyance in a spot like this?  The animals themselves, he surmised, would fetch several thousand dinars apiece, and the chariot nearly as much.  Autolycus had never seen such fine workmanship on a chariot.  He could not identify the black material from which it had been built, but he'd be willing to bet his eye teeth that the silver and gold ornamentation were genuine.

On the front of the chariot, the silver trim crested up into a menacing skull.  Autolycus tried to pry the metal decoration off, but it held fast.  On the other hand, he decided, he might as well take the entire thing.  The horses would have to be sold separately, lest he attract attention, but it would be worth the effort.  He studied the horns-and-rune beneath the skull, feeling as though he ought to recognize the symbol, but if he'd seen it before, the memory escaped him.

Autolycus shed the disguise he'd been wearing (the solemn robes of a priest of Athena), swiftly donned his own clothes, and guided the horses out of the trees and onto the road.  He hopped up into the chariot and snapped the reins.  "Yah!" he shouted.

The horses picked up speed at a pace Autolycus found vaguely alarming.  Still, nothing prepared him for the shock he experienced when the chariot lifted off the ground and into the sky.

"Oh, for the love of Zeus!" he exclaimed.  "Autolycus, you imbecile!  _Aaarrrgghh_!"

*****

Strife and Harmonia wandered the market stalls of Athens happily, taking in all the varied delights of the city.  They spent an hour in Dinar A Dozen.  As the afternoon sun began to slant down the sky, and they began thinking about getting back to the chariot, Harmonia noticed some people setting up decorations in the market square.

"Hey, what's going on?" she inquired of a young man.

"Festival tonight," was the response.  "Music, food, dancing."

"That sounds like, totally rad!" Harmonia squealed.  "Strife, let's stay for it!"

"Uh, like, don't you think we should be getting back?"

"No!  I think we'll be fine."

"Well—maybe we should check the horses?"

"The horses are immortal, silly.  It's not like they'll need food or water or anything."

Strife scratched his head.  He couldn't escape Harmonia's logic on that point.  Besides, it had been a while since he'd been to a good party.  He liked the looks of the drums being set up.  He'd be willing to bet the party would be cool.

"Okay," he said.  Harmonia wasn't worrying about anything—why should _he_?

*****

Back in the temple, Ares enjoyed the afternoon, blessedly free from the distractions of daughter and nephew.  After an hour of intense massage, things had gotten rather interesting with Astyoche.  From there, events had proceeded down to Ares' bedchamber, where they ended in a tangle of damp sheets.  At one point Astyoche had paused and asked, "What's that?"  But when neither of them heard anything, the young acolyte had continued with her devotions.  Ares had given no further thought to the sound Astyoche might have heard.

Leaving his paramour sleeping blissfully amongst the silk sheets, Ares had gotten up to dress.  But when he snapped his fingers for his clothes, they would not appear on his body.  He frowned, then realized his powers had fallen to a low ebb.  He picked up his sword and with a carefully sequenced series of twists, unscrewed the hilt away from the blade.

Inside the hollow cavity of the blade, he noticed, as he suspected, that his sword was running on empty.  Ares wrapped himself in a towel and padded on bare feet to the special workroom where he kept his Deluxe Olympian Espresso Maker.

Horrified, he discovered the delicate contraption in several pieces, with water all over the table.  Ordinarily, he could have snapped his fingers and restored the thing to its original condition.  But with his energy waning, such was now impossible.  Ares could not believe this stroke of bad luck-- his powers had run down, and he had no way to restore them.

"Argh!" he snarled.  Then he realized who must be responsible for this catastrophe.

_"Strife!"_

But his nephew would not come.  Infuriated, Ares stalked throughout the temple looking for his nephew, but he could find neither Strife nor Harmonia.  Where had those two dim-wits gone?  He needed to get that espresso machine fixed within a few hours, or his powers would dissipate completely and—horror of horrors—he would become mortal.  After having had that experience once, he had no desire to endure it again.

None of his concubines had seen the two young godlings.  Strife and Harmonia weren't in the garden, or the guest rooms, or the observatory.  Ares went down to the dungeon—one of Strife's favorite places to "hang out"—and en route, realized that the doors to the room where he kept his chariot stood open.  The doors to the outside had also been opened.  Phobos, Deimos, and the chariot were all gone.

Ares gnashed his teeth in frustration.  He could feel his power ebbing away with every moment.  He could think of only one person who could help him.  Cursing under his breath, Ares went up to the main room of the temple to recover his discarded clothing, then headed out into the woods in search of Xena.

*****

"Oh, man," Harmonia sighed, "that was like, so _totally_ awesome."  She smoothed down the fabric of her tight-fitting black party dress.  For the festival, Harmonia had adopted a costume that would have done credit to a Bacchae.

"Yeah," Strife agreed.  "Tubular!"

The last of the mortal revelers had passed out in the pre-dawn light, including the exhausted band members.  Naturally, the two gods had an indefinite supply of energy.  They kept writhing and twisting for as long as the band had played.  For a while, Strife had gotten up on the raised platform and banged on a drum for a while so that Harmonia could continue dancing, but when that ceased to be amusing, the two youngsters agreed that they probably ought to get back to the temple.

"You are like, totally killer on the dance floor, dude," Harmonia said admiringly.  "You're pretty bitchin' with a drum, too."

Strife blushed.  "Well, uh, well, like, uh, thanks," he stuttered.

Harmonia wrapped her arm around him more snugly.  "You're like, so shy," she giggled.  "That is just way cute."

"I, uh, like—"

Harmonia planted a kiss on his mouth that practically knocked Strife backwards.

"All that dancing made me like, so totally hormonal," she said, running her hands down his lanky frame.

Strife realized what she intended, and reacted with a kind of horror.  "Uh, like, I don't think that's like, such a great idea," he gasped.

"Aw, c'mon," Harmonia teased.  "I'm a virgin too, if that makes you feel any better."

"It's not that," said Strife, trying to peel his cousin off him.  "Unc would kill me-- and so would your mom—and so would _my_ mom—"

"We're _gods_, you dope, they can't kill us!"

"But we're like, cousins," Strife protested.

Harmonia convulsed with laughter.  "Get a life," she said.  "On Olympus that means we're like, not even related.  Mom says that Daddy's done _all_ his sisters.  Keep it in the family, y'know?"

"B-but we, like—"

"Oh, come on," said Harmonia, trying to grab Strife's belt buckle.

"Uh—"  Strife managed to finally dance away from her grasp.  "Like, let's get back to the chariot, okay?"

Harmonia pouted, but accepted her cousin's reluctance to copulate with a shrug.  She still had the rest of the weekend to work on him.

They left Athens by the same road they'd taken into the city, but when they reached the thicket of trees where the chariot had been hidden, they found the conveyance gone.

"Where'd it go?" Harmonia wailed.  "Daddy's cruisemobile!"

"Are you sure we didn't like, leave it somewhere else?" Strife asked, turning around in a circle.

"No, it was right here," said Harmonia.  "See, there's the marks from the wheels.  Somebody stole it!  Strife!"  She grabbed his arm.  "What are we going to do?"

"Uh, like, hire a cab?" Strife asked.

"Okay—we have to use mental power," said Harmonia.  "We have to like, totally concentrate on bringing it back here.  On the count of three.  One... two... three."

Both gods concentrated ferociously, but to no avail.  Phobos and Deimos did not appear.

"Someone else has it!" said Harmonia.  "Daddy's going to kill us!"

"We have to think of something," said Strife.  "We can't just go back there without it."  At this point, Strife thought, he might as well see if there were any openings on Olympus for a Julie Andrews impersonator.

"Let's keep looking," said Harmonia.  "It must be around here somewhere."  And they began trudging down the road away from Athens.

*****

Gabrielle had been unusually cranky that morning.  First she grumbled that there was no breakfast.  When Xena suggested they go fishing, Gabrielle nearly hit her friend over the head with her staff.  Xena asked if Gabrielle had slept on a rock again, and had to dodge an airborne frying pan.

So Xena went and caught the fish herself, which Gabrielle consented to cook, albeit grudgingly.  (Xena kept her chakram well out of harm's way—she didn't relish having it smell like fish for another two months again).  Food did not seem to make Gabby feel any better, so Xena suggested a relaxing swim under a nearby waterfall.  Alas, Gabrielle merely provoked a waterfight.  "Fine!  If that's how you're going to be!" said Xena.  She climbed out of the water, dried herself, dressed, and sat on a rock in the sun, combing her hair.  

Eventually, Gabrielle donned her own clothes and sat on the rock also, growling and spitting as she attempted to pull the tangles from her fair mane.  The two sat together with their feet in the creek, soaking up the sun's rays.  The intimacy of their posture could have meant anything, or nothing, depending on how one interpreted the situation.  

A noisy crashing from the bushes interrupted their bucolic interlude.  They heard muttering, then a faint yelp of pain.  Xena jumped up and grabbed her sword.

"What's your problem?  It's probably Joxer," Gabrielle muttered.

"Not _that_ voice," said Xena.  Sure enough, Ares emerged from the underbrush a moment later, hair and clothes completely disheveled, covered with dirt and scratches.

"I never realized how many brambles there are in this confounded forest—Xena!  Just who I'm looking for!"

"Ares," she said, holding out her sword defensively.  "What're you doing here?"

He held his arms out from his sides.  "You can't tell?" he asked with a scowl.

Gabrielle grabbed her staff.  "You big turd!" she yelled, and charged at the god like an angry bull.  Xena snatched up her friend by the back of her pea-green sports bra before the young bard did any serious damage to herself.  Gabby hung in midair, kicking and cursing.

"You have your sword," observed Xena, puzzled by Ares' scruffy appearance.

"It's, ah, not exactly the sword," said Ares.  He circled around Xena, carefully avoiding Gabrielle's thrashing arms and legs, and whispered into the ear of the warrior-princess.  Xena burst out laughing.

"Oh, is _that_ why you're always in such a bad mood?" she teased.  "You should try herbal tea."

"I don't need a health seminar, Xena!  I need you to help me!"  He pointed to Gabrielle.  "Not unless you want your friend to be like _that_ for the rest of her life."

"No," allowed Xena.  "It's bad enough when she has PMS."

_"Hey!"_ Gabrielle roared.  "Can we please dispense with the sexist discourse?"

"What'll you give me in return?" asked Xena, ignoring the Amazon's protests.

"Anything—anything you want," said Ares.

"Ah-ah," said Xena, shaking her head.  "That's not good enough.  Swear it on the River Styx."  Her eyes held a malicious gleam.  "On your knees."

The soon-to-be-mortal god of war rolled his eyes, but knelt stiffly.  "All right, all right!  I swear it on the River Styx—I'll do whatever you want."

"Beautiful."  Xena dropped Gabrielle to her feet, then gave her friend a set of brief, whispered instructions.

"But what can _he_ do about it?" asked Gabrielle incredulously.

"You'd be surprised.  You should know where to find him.  Meet me back at Ares' temple," said Xena.  The bard headed for the woods.  "And try to keep from killing him!" the warrior called.

"That will take effort," Gabby snorted.

"Oh, and Gabrielle—?"

"Yes?"

Xena winked.  "Take your time getting back," she said.  The Amazon shrugged, then took off into the trees.

Ares had started to stand, but Xena spun around to face him.

"Get back on your knees," she barked.  Ares watched as she picked up her whip and advanced on him.  He tried to keep his face from lighting up.

"Xena," he breathed. "You're... into B&D?"  He _knew_ a hot-blooded dominatrix must smolder beneath that prissy, save-the-world exterior!  The war god quivered with anticipation.

"Why else do you think I dress like this?" she asked, indicating her tight-fitting leather dress, metallic accessories, multitude of weapons, and thigh-high leather boots.  She stood directly in front of Ares, whip in hand, glowering down at him with a demonic fire in her eyes.

"Oh, Xena, _baby,_" he gasped, then quickly made his face contrite.  "I mean—" he tried to sound meek—"Ares has been a _very_ naughty boy."

"Ah," said Xena, snapping the whip on the ground.  "That's more like it."

*****

Gabrielle took her time running the errand, then took the long, leisurely route to Ares' temple, arriving at about mid-afternoon.  The fit of irritation had passed, and she felt much more like her usual annoyingly cheerful self.  

She wandered into the main room and looked around curiously.  She'd never been in the war god's temple before, and felt mildly surprised to find the shrine as pleasant as that of any other god.  She'd expected darkness, gloom, decomposing corpses, and heaps of skulls with rats slithering in and out of the eye sockets.  Instead she found a spacious, airy room filled with plants and attractive furniture, populated by nice-looking young women who went about tending the plants and setting out fruit on the altar.

Gabrielle approached one of the women—some kind of priestess, she surmised.

"Have you seen Xena?" she asked cautiously.

Silently, the young woman pointed to a staircase at the other side of the room.  Gabrielle took the stairs down to a lower level and found herself in a long corridor.  She heard a faint moaning—an unmistakable sound of ecstasy—and followed the noise until she reached a large, lavishly decorated chamber.

The scene that greeted her astonished the young bard.  On one side of the room, Xena lounged indolently in a large chair, munching on something and drinking from a small cup.  She wore only her brown leather battle dress.  Her armor, weapons, and boots lay in a pile on the floor, along with Ares' sword and all of his clothing.  The warrior-princess had a smug, voluptuous expression on her face.

On a magnificently carved bed, amidst a pile of cushions and black silk sheets, lay the god of war himself, naked as the day he'd popped out of Hera's womb.  From the healthy, bronze flush of his skin, Gabrielle assumed that the problem with his sword had been fixed.  From the way his hair stood out in a mass of unruly curls, and from his occasional moans, she quickly pieced together what had transpired during her absence.

"Xena!" she said, shocked at her friend's brazen display of lust.  "You _didn't_!"

"Oh, yes we did," Ares groaned, writhing deliciously.  "Twenty-seven glorious times."

"_Twenty-seven?_  I haven't been gone that long," said Gabrielle.

"He's exaggerating," said Xena calmly.  "It was more like five or six."  She held out one of the pale objects to her companion.  "Have a biscotti?"

"Sure, I think I will," said Gabrielle, taking one of the cookies.  "Xena, I can't believe that you'd..." she gestured with her hands and the biscotti, "with that rat?"

"I'm merely responding to the dark part of myself that has a weakness for bad boys," said Xena with a smile.  "He has his uses."

"You rotten bastard!" Gabrielle stomped angrily over to Ares.  "You..." she trailed off, staring down at his godly splendor.  She swallowed hard.  "Uh, Xena," she said.  "I know he's been a complete fink to you, but..." she had started breathing rather heavily.  "I kind of see what you might like about him," she concluded weakly.

Ares eyed the younger woman with speculative eyes.  "Come visit me any time you want, Gabby-cakes," he rumbled.  "I'll _really_ teach you how to use a staff."

"No you won't," Xena contradicted quickly.  The look in her eyes clearly said, _you're mine!  _She stood up, swallowing the last of her drink.  "Get your clothes on."  And to Gabrielle, "Want some espresso?"

"Espresso?" said Gabrielle blankly.

"Sure," said Xena.  "It's a hot drink made from these beans, here."  She grinned wickedly.  "It's what powers his sword," she added.

"Really?"  Gabrielle gave the weapon a dubious look.  Ares threw Xena a scowl as he donned his habitual black leather.

"Of course not," Xena murmured, blowing the god a kiss.  She turned back to her companion.  "Did you find him?"

"Mission accomplished," said Gabrielle, rolling her eyes.  "I found him just where you said he'd be.  By now, they should all be together."

"Great," said Xena.  "All we have to do is go pick them up."  She gave Ares a whack on his comely backside.  "Let's get going."

"_Ooooh!_  Do that again," he purred.  Gabrielle burst into giggles.  He scowled and quickly amended, "I mean—how dare you strike me!  I should blast you down where you stand for that!"

The three went back up the stairs to the main level.  Gabrielle suddenly stopped short.  "Xena... isn't he supposed to be your father?"

"Shhh," said Xena hastily.  "This is a PG-13 story!"

*****

"No," the voice instructed.  "Harmonia—you're a little flat, and—"

"I am not!" she protested, looking down at her swelling bosom.

"Not _that_ kind of flat.  Your voice."

"Oh," said the goddess, chastened.  She tried again.  _"Ahhhh!"_ she sang.

"Great!  And Strife, you're a little sharp."

"Really?  Thanks!  My uncle tells me I'm kind of dull.  So does my mother."

"Not _that_ kind of sharp.  Once more, and _please_ stay in key this time!"

Strife tried again.  _"Ahhhh!"_

"Beautiful!  Wow, you have _perfect_ pitch.  Now, let's try it again from the top—this time with _feeling_—"

Xena, Gabrielle, and Ares emerged from the trees into the small clearing.

"Xena, Gabrielle!" said Joxer happily.  "Come and meet my new friends.  This is Harmonia—" he gestured to the young woman on his left, "and this is Strife."  He indicated the young man on his right.  "Gabby!  Come join us!  We need someone to sing alto."

"Sure!"  Gabrielle scampered over and sat on the log between Joxer and Harmonia.  Joxer blew into his little pipe. _ "Hmmmm!"_  They all got into the right pitch, then at once, burst into four-part harmony:

_"He's Joxer the Mighty,_

_Roaming through the countryside_

_He never needs a place to hide!_

_With Gabby as his sidekick,_

_Fighting with her little stick._

_Righting wrongs and singings songs,_

_Being mighty all day long._

_He's Joxer, he's Joxer the Mighty!"_

_"Aaaarrrrghhhhh!"_  Ares grabbed his ears.  "_Stop it!_  STOP THAT NOISE!"

The four youngsters quieted down.

"Hi, Daddy," said Harmonia in a small voice.

"You two," said Ares, advancing upon the log.  "You two are in more trouble than I can begin to tell you."  He spoke slowly, through his teeth.  "Where—is—my—chariot?"

"I don't know," said Harmonia meekly.  "Someone stole it."

"Stole it," Ares repeated.  "Are you sure you didn't just _give_ it away?"

"No!" Harmonia wailed.  "I swear—didn't it get stolen, Strife?"

Strife nodded mutely, pale eyes bulging with terror.

Ares glared at the youngsters, seemed to concentrate briefly, then snapped the fingers on both hands at once.

_"Aaarrrghhh!"_  The sound came out of nowhere.

Phobos and Deimos landed in the clearing in a flash of light, the chariot behind them, mercifully intact.  The same could not quite be said of its driver, who stopped howling once he realized he was back on the ground.

"Autolycus!" exclaimed Gabrielle.

"Why am I not surprised?" murmured Xena.

"Oh my, stars and garters," Autolycus groaned.  He stepped out of the chariot, then looked up into the face of Ares, who wore an expression like a black stormcloud.

"Oh, shit," said the King of Thieves flatly.  "Autolycus, you've really done it this time.  Of all the gods, I had to steal the chariot that belongs to the god of war.  Don't worry Ares," he went on, "you don't even have to bother killing me.  If my old friend Xena there would just loan me her sword, I'd be more than happy to go in the woods and quietly commit hara-kiri—"

"You'll do nothing of the sort," Harmonia declared, standing up.  "It's my fault.  It was my idea to take Daddy's chariot—"

Autolycus glanced back and forth swiftly from Harmonia to Ares.  The expression on his face clearly said, _Daddy?_

"Strife said we shouldn't, but I didn't listen to him."  Harmonia went and stood between Autolycus and Ares.  "If anyone deserves to be punished, it's me."  She looked contritely at the ground.

Ares forced himself to remember the whammy Aphrodite had promised.  An eternity of B&D with Xena was worth passing up the satisfaction of blasting Autolycus halfway to Tartarus.

"Well," he said magnanimously, "we all make mistakes when we're young."  He gave his daughter a little pat on the shoulder.  "The chariot is in one piece, so—" he threw Autolycus a murderous look—"everything's fine."

Harmonia threw her arms around Ares, who looked as though he might pass out from the display of affection.  "Thank you, Daddy!  I knew you'd understand!"

Over the top of her head, Ares gave the King of Thieves a look that said, _next time, Autolycus, you **die**!_  The thief casually worked his way over to where Xena stood with Gabrielle and Joxer.  Strife stood apart from them, twitching a bit, not entirely sure what his uncle would do when they got back to the temple.

"You know, Daddy, I was thinking," said Harmonia, playing with her father's amulet.  "Strife and I get along really well, and we're only first cousins, and—"

"NO!"  Ares thundered, causing a small earthquake in Tibet.  "You _cannot_ marry Strife!  The two of you would produce the most dim-witted, empty-headed children in history, and nobody would understand a word any of them said!"

Harmonia's lips began to quiver and her eyes filled with tears.

"Aw," said Autolycus, unable to resist taunting the god.  "C'mon, Ares, you made your little girl cry."

Ares glared murderously at the thief.  "You really are pushing your luck, aren't you, Autolycus?" he snarled.  Then he again remembered Aphrodite's promise.  He forced himself to calm down a fraction.  Harmonia had managed to work her arms around him again and looked up at him with tearful, pleading eyes.

"Kiss and make up?" she whispered.

Ares had never been so utterly humiliated, but he told himself that the mortification would be worth it when he had Xena back within his power.  

"Go on, Ares," the warrior-princess goaded.

The god made a face, but gave his daughter a very fast peck on the forehead.  "There, is that better?" he sighed.  "You can't marry Strife," he said scolded gently.  "That would make Auntie Eris your mother-in-law.  You wouldn't want that now, would you?"  Harmonia shook her head.  "I promise, when you're old enough, I'll find a nice god for you to marry.  All right?"

"Mmm-hmm," she said, burrowing into the front of his tunic.

"Now, isn't this just _adorable_?"

Aphrodite breezed into the clearing, suntanned and gorgeous, wearing a scant little bikini beneath her sheer gossamer negligee.  "Hi, dudes!" she called gaily.  "Hi, Xena!  Hi, Autolycus!  Is that _you_, Strife?  You've gotten so big, I'd hardly know you!"  She sauntered over and chucked her nephew under the chin.  "Hi, Joxer, sweetie-pie!" she said, giving the warrior-wannabe a smooch on his cheek.  "And _Gabrielle!_  You're looking as precious as ever."  She held out her arms for her offspring.  "Harmonia, darling!  Did you have fun with Daddy?"

"I had lots of fun, Mom!  Strife and I went to this way cool party, and I met all these totally rad friends of Daddy's—"Ares rolled his eyes—"and learned this really nifty song."  She started to sing.  "He's Joxer the Might, he roams—"

"That's wonderful, sweetheart, you can sing the whole thing for me later, all right?"  Aphrodite gave her daughter a little squeeze.  "Heph is waiting for us—we got you some way-out souvenirs.  So why don't you get back home?"

The mortals in the clearing had taken advantage of Aphrodite's arrival to begin quietly edging toward the trees.  Strife had already vanished.

"Okay, Mom," said Harmonia.  She gave Ares another hug.  He didn't know how much longer he could stand all this huggy-kissy stuff.  "It was like, tubular hanging with you, Daddy," she said wistfully.  "Later!"  And she disappeared in a shower of pink sparkles.

Ares heaved a sigh of relief, then nudged Aphrodite.  He pointed to Xena's retreating figure, an expectant look on his face.

"Oh, right," said Aphrodite, waving her hand toward the warrior-princess.  A few sparkles flew, but Xena didn't even twitch.  She just kept walking.

"Hey, where's she going?" Ares demanded.

"There's like, a time delay on this one," said the goddess, primping a bit.  "You'll have to wait a few days, but it'll be worth it."  She kissed her brother.  "Believe me."

"Yeah, whatever," he grumbled, then clamped a hand over his mouth.  His eyes rolled from side to side in their sockets.

"What's the matter?" said Aphrodite, cocking one hip a bit.

"I said 'whatever.'"

"Deal with it, already!" she said with a laugh.  She gave him another kiss and took off.  Realizing he was alone in the clearing, Ares vanished also.

*****

The days turned into weeks.  Strife steered clear of the temple—not that Ares minded, or cared.  Indeed, his nephew's absence came as a relief.  Ares began to doubt the verity of his sister's promise, but stubborn pride kept him from seeking her out and demanding explanations.

He had almost given up when one day, about a month after Harmonia's visit, Ares heard hoofbeats, then a quiet snorting and the sound of a rider dismounting.  With a chuckle he stood, rubbing his hands together in anticipation.

Xena sauntered into the temple, a saddlebag slung over one shoulder.  Ares watched her glance around the room, disconcerted by the proprietary look in her eye.  She took in the furniture, shaking her head slightly at some of it, then sauntered over to the chair Ares normally occupied and plunked herself down.

"I have news for you," she said, rummaging in her pack.

"Of course you do," said Ares, trying not to lick his lips.  "You've killed your pesky little friend, renounced pacifism, and are returning to _my_ service, body and soul."

"Not quite, dude," she said, throwing something at him.  Ares caught the little bundle, then realized to his horror that it was a miniature replica of his own leather garb.  "I'm pregnant and you're like, the father."

Ares groaned and passed out on the floor.

*****

He awoke to find Xena still in the chair, knitting.  He sat up and groaned again, clutching his head.

She tossed a second outfit at him.  "Your sister tells me it's like, twins," she said.  Ares stared abjectly down at a baby-sized version of Xena's battle dress.  "A girl _and_ a boy, which is totally bitchin'.  Harmonia said she'd baby-sit, so you can take me cruising in that tubular chariot of yours."  She smiled, knitting ferociously.  "I have like, _so_ much stuff to make before they're born," she went on.  "Between your genes and my genes, these kids are gonna be like, giants or something."

"No, no," Ares wailed.

"Yes, yes," Xena sang out.  "Do me a favor, would you, and like, go get me some pickles?  I am having the most _gnarly_ food cravings.  Yesterday it was apples.  Your sister gave me a basket full of them and I ate them _all_, can you believe it?  One of them was like, _golden_, which is way cool.  And it was so _yummy_."  Ares began pulling out his hair in clumps.  Xena.  Immortal.  Now he'd _never_ get rid of her.

"You know," she said, oblivious to his dismay, "I've been thinking about names.  For the girl—don't you think Cher would be like, totally cute?  And for the boy, I thought like, Elton?  And Ares, babe, we _have_ to remodel this place.  We're going to need a nursery, we'll need an extra room for Gabrielle, and—"

"No!" Ares bellowed.  "I will _not_ have that irritating blonde under my roof!"

"Well, who in Hades do you think is going to be the nanny?" Xena sweetly inquired.  "I can't look after two kids all day, you know?  She's back in Poteidaia collecting her stuff and she'll be here tomorrow."  Xena finished one little black bootie, gave it a nod of satisfaction, and swiftly began working on another one.

"Xena, like, I cannot accept this!  I will not have your _lame_ friend living here and singing her _grody_ little songs—"  Ares clamped his mouth shut, an expression of horror on his face.  "Like, now look what you've done!  I'm talking like a complete _goober_—"  The god of war looked up at the ceiling and furiously roared,

                        **"APHRODITE!"**


End file.
